


Shades of Gray

by GirlKnownSomewhere



Series: Blues & Greens [2]
Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: 1960s, 1970s, Band Fic, F/M, Sequel, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlKnownSomewhere/pseuds/GirlKnownSomewhere
Summary: The mini-sequel to Blues & Greens that no one was expecting (least of all me, lol). Three times Peter and Ann reunite in the little ficverse I created.





	1. While I Cry

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was inspired by the fact that I didn't realize Genie Franklyn died five months after the date I set the end of B&G. So then I kept wondering how my fic version of Ann would've taken the news. Here is the result~
> 
> General disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the Monkees or Ann Moses' likeness

Ch. 1: While I Cry

Westwood, May 1969

Ann could barely comprehend the entire day passing by her as she numbly left the deli on her lunch break. She hadn’t been able to focus or motivate herself to be productive since yesterday. When she received a phone call early the previous morning, she wasn’t expecting it to be bad news, let alone news that one of her closest friends had become one of the victims of a fatal bus crash in England. Genie had been traveling with her current boyfriend’s folk band Fairport Convention when the accident occurred. Ann was happy for her and how much she appeared to adore guitarist Richard Thompson. She always considered Genie one of the coolest people she knew and admired how she could have fun in nearly any situation. Ann knew that she hated the new habit of zines calling her a groupie for traveling with Richard everywhere, but that didn’t discourage her from seeing him.

When Ann learned the details of Genie’s death, she called in sick at the office, thinking she would break down at some point in the day. But it never came. She just spent all day thinking about how she’d never see Genie again, or how she wished she’d convinced her to stay home for one tour, or remember back to when they first started becoming friends and Genie would give Ann fashion and dating advice. Thinking work might be a distraction from the bleakness, Ann went back to Tiger Beat today, but still had trouble concentrating. She thought she was sad, and she probably was deep down, but mostly she just felt empty and distant. When she walked zombie like through the LA crowd back to work, she didn’t notice or care if she bumped into anyone.

“Annie?”

She faintly heard her name, but it was enough for her to stop her feet and see someone in front of her. “…Peter?” She hadn’t seen the former Monkee since the first week of January, and she noticed his beard was back next to shoulder length hair. But his eyes were exactly the same. She thought back to when they saw each other regularly, which then made her think of when she and Genie visited the set of **Head** , and then the great time they had along with Donna at the **Yellow Submarine** premiere. “Oh God, Peter.” That was all it took for the tears to fall as she finally hit her grief full stop. Ann leaned forward and cried into his shoulder as she felt his arms wrap around her in a gentle hug. She didn’t care if bystanders stepping by saw her meltdown and she barely realized when Peter redirected them to a different location. When she finally allowed herself to be physically calm, with Peter occasionally rubbing her shoulder, she recognized that they were in the backseat of his car. He didn’t ask, but eventually she found the energy to explain what had happened in the past few days.

“Jesus…Ann, I’m so sorry,” he said after her words finished. 

She just sighed and leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed. She rubbed her forehead, feeling a slight headache coming on from the crying and momentarily wished she still had her bangs to hide half of her face. Ann then felt her hand being held by Peter. It felt like a reassurance that she wasn’t alone. Suddenly Genie left her mind for second and she wished she still regularly saw Peter. 

“I heard Genie had become Richard’s grou—girlfriend, but I didn’t realize they were that attached,” Peter claimed.

Ann turned her head to face him after staring outside the window. “She really wasn’t a groupie. They were in love. Well, she was. I didn’t really get to know him,” she informed. “Fairport aren’t exactly on my readers’ radars.”

Peter just nodded and let her rest. “Want me to take you home?” He asked after a couple minutes.

Ann forgot for a moment that she was technically supposed to be heading back to work, but now felt like it would be useless for the rest of the day.

“Or we can hang out at my place. It’s been a while since you’ve visited,” Peter also suggested.

That did sound like a good idea, but then she remembered two girls at the office gossiping about how his home had turned into almost like a part commune, part love-in. That would be a distraction, but probably not the one she needed right now. For a second she wished she could be with the Peter she knew before he became a hippie.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose on Reine’s work space,” she came up with as an excuse.

He let out a small laugh, “She can drum with people around the house.”

She chose to ignore his response. “Speaking of which, did you guys get the record deal? I know it’s been a few months since you formed the band, but my life’s sort of been taken over by the Cowsills and the Jackson 5,” she explained.

“Not yet. But the label’s letting us compose and record in the studio, so that’s been great,” he stated.

Ann thought that was unusual, but didn’t persist the subject. “How naïve was I to think the ‘60s would end on a high note, huh?” She wasn’t only thinking of her friend’s death but also how so many of the musicians she’d become familiar with were now bitterly quitting music or addicted to hard drugs. She hoped neither would happen to Peter.

“The year’s not over yet.” Peter squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Have you talked to anyone else besides me?”

Ann let out a long breath before answering. “I called my mom yesterday and Donna last night…that’s pretty much it.”

He let go of her hand and played with a piece of loose hair on her shoulder. “Well, the best perk about being your own boss, or band leader, is you can take as long of breaks as you want. But you would know all about being your own boss since last year, right?” He ended with a smile.

Ann sat there somewhere between flattered and relieved at his friendly comfort. From him not acting like they hadn’t seen each other in over five months to remembering that she was promoted to head editor last year. Without much thought she leaned forward and hugged him tightly. She closed her eyes and felt him reciprocate the hug with one of his arms. She sighed and felt content for the first time in two days. A car honking broke Ann out of her peaceful, slightly zoned out state and realize she was still holding Peter. She carefully let go and moved back to her side of the car while Peter just held an understanding smile. 

“Home?” He asked reminding her of his previous offer to drive her.

She rubbed her eyes for a brief second before responding. “No, I need to get back to the office. Even if I leave early, my stuff is there and I took my own car.” 

Peter nodded. “Mind if I walk back with you? I’d hate for you to bump into someone not nearly as friendly as me in a vulnerable state.” 

Ann softly smiled. “That’s really sweet of you, Peter.” She checked to make sure her eyes weren’t wet anymore before stepping out of the car, with Peter following suit.

As they walked back to the Tiger Beat offices, the two fell into a comfortable silence. When a large crowd passed them while walking across the street, Ann instinctively grabbed his hand and tried to push through as casually as possible. When they reached the outside of the front entrance, she noticed she was still holding his hand.

“Oh, um…” She slowly released him. “Sorry I keep grabbing you…” She awkwardly apologized with a lazy smile.

Peter just held a warm grin. “I can think of worse things than holding hands with a close friend.”

She wondered if he really did still consider her a close friend. She wanted to, but it had been almost half a year since they last spoke. The words ‘best friend’ or ‘close friend’ felt like they might be transitioning to ‘old friend.’ Suddenly it hit her that now without either Peter or Genie in her life, she might not even have a best friend presently. Ann felt a sense of loneliness hit her for the first time since early 1966 when she first moved to LA as a newcomer. 

“Hey…”

Ann then felt Peter’s hand on her upper arm, breaking her from her thought process. 

“You sure you’re going to be alright going back home?” He asked concerned.

She shook her head lightly to wake herself up mentally. “Yeah…yeah, I think I will. Eventually.” 

He placed both hands on her arms and looked into her eyes calmly. “Don’t get behind the wheel until your mind’s clearer.” 

She smiled appreciatively. “I know. Thank you.”

He pulled her into one more tight hug. She sighed and took her time letting it linger. Peter was the one to let go first, but still kept close. “Don’t be a stranger. You know you can call or stop by anytime you need anything.” 

The comment brought Ann back to reality briefly. She nodded without any verbal response and smiled again. 

“You’ll be alright,” he stated with a small grin before giving her arm a squeeze and walking back to wherever he originally intended. Ann let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in and returned to her real life.


	2. You and I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved up Hallie's birth 10 months so everything in this chapter could happen, heh.

Ch. 2: You and I

Laurel Canyon, July 1970

The last time Ann was in Ferndell Park, she was playing on the swings with Keith Moon and John Entwistle for a magazine photoshoot in 1968, savoring the special moment with their mod rock band. Now she was driving to the park for another photoshoot, but a completely different context. Tiger Beat was holding a ‘Where are they now?’ issue with past pop idols, and one of them was the Monkee she was once closest with. Despite the fact that it had been over a year since she last saw him, Ann opted to edit his update herself. She needed a handful of new photos and a few quotes on what his life was like now. As she parked her car, she tried not to think about how she was crying and almost fell asleep in the back of his car the previous time they were together. She grabbed her bigger purse holding her camera and tape recorder, and locked her car as she stepped out. 

When she made it to the spot of the park they agreed to find each other at, Ann found the hippie musician in a tye-dye shirt, jeans, tennies, a beard and hair longer than she’d ever seen it before. It went past his shoulders, practically the same length as her own locks. The head editor on the other end sported a black long-sleeved shirt, grey checkered trousers and feminine loafers with sunglasses. He was the first to wave and greet her with a big grin.

“You stole my hair style,” she teased jokingly.

“Well, might as well steal from the cutest,” he jested back with his smile still kept. She stood there for a moment with her own small smile not sure how to proceed. Eventually Peter moved forward and gave her a quick hug before she set her bag down and grabbed her recorder.

“So I guess you’re not in Studio City anymore?” She asked as she turned on the device.

“Oh no, we moved back to Laurel Canyon last winter. Actually we’re shacking up at Dave Crosby’s place.”

Her right eyebrow slightly cocked up at that last part as she looked up at him. She just found him with his usual friendly smile, as if there wasn’t anything odd about his statement. “How long is that setup supposed to be for?”

He shrugged. “However long it takes.”

Ann stood back up with the recorder and straightened herself. “I wasn’t really sure what to put for your current job…”

“You know about Release,” he said lightly. 

“Yeah, but I tried to look you guys up at RCA and they didn’t have anything on record of you. I even checked Colgems…” She revealed.

“We didn’t try to sign with RCA, we demo’d with Atlantic,” he corrected.

“Oh…” She awkwardly ended.

“So on the phone you said you moved offices?” Peter changed the subject slightly.

“Yeah, we’re on Hollywood Blvd. now. And I’m out of Hollywood too. I live in Santa Monica currently.” 

“Hey, that’s great!” He said enthusiastically. Ann smiled back again. “I’m glad you’re moving forward. I was rather worried about you last time we met.” 

She tensed for a second thinking about Genie’s death. “Yeah…” He softly rubbed her arm supportively. “So…what happened to that production company you were thinking of running?”

“Fell through,” was all he stated as he opened his own bag. 

Ann creased her brow and thought for a moment. “…What are you two doing for a living then?” Two referring to him and Reine.

“We play clubs and parties sometimes,” Peter said casually while taking out a banjo for the photoshoot.

“Ah…” 

He looked back at her with a slight smirk. “You’re not impressed.” 

“Oh, no,” she quickly tried to sound upbeat. “It’s just…you know, a little unexpected to see you go from being a superstar to basically fronting a local band…”

“A gig’s a gig.”

“Especially since Mike…” She cut herself off realizing Peter probably didn’t want to be reminded of his former bandmate having a top 10 hit single. “You’re going to be the biggest hippie Tiger Beat has even seen,” she kidded as a distraction.

He laughed. “Do they even remember enough to care?”

“Well…there will always be dedicated fans…But the Partridge Family and the Osmonds have essentially taken over our issues. Family groups are big at the moment.”

“Makes sense. Easier to get good, clean pop music sold to families with families instead of delinquent 20-year-old guys,” he concluded with a goofy expression. “Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Ann just nodded in agreement. A little less than a minute passed before he was the one to break the silence. “Hey, you know Reine’s pregnant?” He sounded excited.

Ann was still struggling to properly emote though. “Oh…Wow, that’s amazing…Good for you!” She forced at the end cheerfully. 

“What about you though? I keep hoping you’ll find a Prince Charming who isn’t a dick.”

Ann cringed internally thinking about her love life since Maurice swiftly left her for Lulu and her unorthodox friendship with Peter. There had been some dates, a couple with a new associate editor at the office and the same with a red carpet photographer, but nothing that stuck. Partly by her own admission. Then she thought about how only two years ago was that brief period where she thought Peter was going to fill that ‘prince charming’ title.

“Not yet,” she eventually answered. Soon they got to taking a few photos of Peter for the special issue. Ann was surprised he chose to pose with the banjo rather than one of his guitars, but didn’t mention it. 

“Hey, why don’t you come over to the house and mingle? It’s the best place I’ve lived in yet even if I’m borrowing,” he suggested lively.

Ann paused uncertainly. “Oh…I don’t know…I don’t want to take up space…”

“Dave’s on tour with Steve and Graham, and Reine’s at a doctor’s checkup across town. And it’s a bit more modest than the last time you visited,” Peter insisted.

She was a little relieved he remembered her reluctance the New Year’s week she discovered the ‘no dress code’ status at his old house. “So…it’s only you three at the house?”

“Well, us and Dave’s girlfriend. But you won’t see anybody nude when you open the door, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he confirmed.

Ann let out a small breath of relief to herself. “Well…I guess I can look around for a little bit.”

She followed his car in her own to the mountainside and was soon in the bohemian neighborhood for the first time in months. Walking around the house, Ann had to agree, it was a nice estate. Especially the large backyard with plenty of grass. She also discovered that he and Reine weren’t living in the basement as rumored, but more the three-room guest house. But there still was a basement, that served almost like a second living room. At the end of the house tour, Peter convinced her to go down, where she discovered a pool table, two big loveseats, a radio, a turntable, and…

Peter lit up a joint he took out of a mid-sized case and turned around to see Ann with a resistant look. He jokingly passed the substance back-and-forth toward her and himself a few times. She stood unresponsive for a long instance before slowly grabbing it from his hand and staring at it. “This isn’t laced, is it?”

He let out an amused chuckle. “You know me better than that.” That reminded Ann of when he was trying to sell her on taking acid and promising he’d make sure she had a good trip. She warily took a small hit to test the quality. It wasn’t like she was new to it. And she trusted Peter not to trick her. She hadn’t smoked since last summer on 4th of July, but from what she could tell, besides being a little stronger than her cousin’s cheap supply, it felt like weed. Mostly she didn’t want to seem like a hypocrite for the hard time she once gave him for getting stoned so much. But he didn’t appear to mind that presently. She took another hit as she felt him squeeze her shoulder before she made her way to a green beanbag in the back corner of the room. Peter followed and sat next to her, crisscrossed. After 15 minutes of sharing the joint and randomly conversing, Ann felt comfortable enough to freely address Peter with some personal opinions.

“Be honest, have you been following the other guys since you left or are going out of your way to ignore their work?” 

He let a long trail of smoke leave his mouth before answering. “No, I know what’s going on with them.”

“Are you surprised Mike ended up being the one to breakout and not Davy?” She asked as she grabbed back the substance.

“Not at all.”

“Really? Why?”

He straightened his legs to allow them to stretch and leaned against the wall. “Anyone who’s that anal-retentive about being in charge of everything’s probably bound to only fail upwards.”

She nodded lazily as she considered his response. “A hit single doesn’t guarantee a hit career either,” he decided to add. Ann suddenly felt a wave of light-headedness come on and fell back on to the wall. She closed her eyes and then felt her head lightly land on Peter’s shoulder. The two would spend the rest of the afternoon and subsequent night catching up on the past 16 months apart from each other. Ann revealed that the perks of being head editor were great, but also overwhelming moderating all the new staff. Peter told to her that Micky was the only other Monkee he’d heard from since he left the group, and that was just by chance when they both happened to be at the Troubadour. Eventually both friends became hungry and made it upstairs to the kitchen. Ann couldn’t decide between potato chips or carrot shavings for the bowl of ranch dip she made, so she ate both. Peter created a randomly assorted cheese platter in his influenced state. Ann next swapped the weed for a glass of rosé and Peter grabbed a Heineken from the fridge as they made it to the living room couch. 

When Ann woke up the next morning her memory was hazier than usual, but still relatively vivid. She remembered Peter putting on one of Dave’s Joni Mitchell records and at one point, Ann spouted some goofy drug-induced dialogue on how she wished she could live in the ocean. Then he played a little bit on the piano by the backyard window, and she found herself getting emotional, though she also chalked it up to her intoxicated state. She could remember their hands clasping with their fingers intertwining, though she wasn’t sure which conversation sparked the reaction. As her mind began to compute her surroundings, she slowly blinked a couple of times to awaken and discovered she wasn’t in her own bedroom. She didn’t recognize the current bedroom she was lying in either and the object she was embracing wasn’t one of her spare pillows. She opened her eyes all the way to find she was holding Peter from behind. Her cheek on his neck with his own arm laid across hers and holding her hand. It called back to a similar scenario when she woke up in his Dallas hotel room three years ago, only this time the positions were reversed. She carefully raised her head to look around the room and found a clock on a nearby table with the arrows pointed as ‘9:21 AM.’ 

Her body instantly shot up as she gasped and hopped off the bed, relieved she was still wearing her clothes. The quick reaction caused Peter to stir and groggily look at the time before dropping his head back on the pillow. Ann hurriedly looked around the room for her shoes. “You’ve got a brunch date? It’s Saturday,” Peter commented as he rubbed his eye.

“I need to leave. Reine could have walked in here. This isn’t appropriate,” she hastily explained. 

Hearing the name didn’t appear to faze him and he leaned up on an elbow. “Nothing out of the ordinary for us,” he casually offered.

Ann wasn’t sure if he was referring to how touchy-feely they used to be as friends or how his relationship with Reine started with loose commitment. “We can’t do this anymore, Peter.”

“What?”

“This,” she repeated while waving her arm at each other. “You’re married—”

“Not legally.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, you’ve lived in two different houses with the same woman. And now she’s pregnant, so we shouldn’t…cuddle like this anymore.” 

He leaned higher up on the bed as she walked by still in search of her shoes. “Hey—” he tried as to lightly grab her hand, but she pulled away.

“No, I’m putting my foot down. This isn’t fair to anyone involved.”

“Did you know—”

“I can’t believe I was foolish enough to get that wasted last night,” she mentioned frustratedly as she ran her hands through her hair.

“Hey, Annie,” he tried again. This time she stopped pacing and looked back at him.

“Did you know Reine and Dave used to go out?”

She stood blankly for a few seconds, not seeing how his question was relevant currently. “Um…no, I didn’t know that…weird.”

He now sat in an upright position with his feet on the ground. “I think you’re fine. We would have probably heard the door open if she had seen us.”

“That doesn’t make me feel more comfortable.”

“Annie, haven’t you wondered once in a while what it would be like if we really did do it?” He asked with a small smile.

She grudgingly paused. “…N—well, yes. But we’re way, WAY beyond that point now,” she insisted.

“Why?” He asked simply, getting a kick out of her dramatic state.

“Because if it was going to happen, it would’ve happened in Dallas, or Salt Lake City, or Bel Air—and I wanted it to, but you didn’t want to be serious, so that’s all on you,” she concluded with a minor irritated tone.

He chuckled, “I wanted to too—”

“I don’t just want a good time, Peter. If we were going to be that physical, it would have been in a relationship. Casual sex doesn’t interest me.”

“I think we know each other a little too well for it to be just ‘casual’…” he suggested.

Her face straightened. “You didn’t sell me on free love, and you’re not going to convince me to have an affair. I’m not Nurit.” She used his old friend’s name as an immediate verification.

He nodded with a weak smile. “Alright, that was a lame suggestion. I admit it.”

She sighed and went back to looking around the guest house. 

“Look outside.”

Ann stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

“Open the front door,” he said. She did as he recommended and found her loafers on the doormat. She grabbed them and sat on a nearby chair to place them back on.

“Look…I really feel our…friends with barely any benefits thing really only worked when we were both single. Now we have to make an effort to be strictly platonic—which I’m not even sure you’re capable of being with a woman—or…I guess go back to not hanging out.”

She stood up after fixing her shoes to find Peter had left the bed and was now standing in front of her, with one of his neutral smiles. She let out a small breath not looking away from his face. “I’m going to lea—” She was cut off by him gently placing his hands on her cheeks and pulling her into a kiss. Even closed mouth and with his facial hair, Ann instantly felt her breath catch. It felt great, she couldn’t lie. Her heart raced and for a long moment she wished that they were in an alternate reality where they could have met as a normal couple in 1966. Right as he tried to separate his lips and she felt his thumb graze her cheek, she forcefully pushed him off as far as possible. “Nope,” was what she said with her eyes still closed and pursed her lips to emotionally regain herself. When she opened her eyes she saw Peter not bothering to hide a satisfied look on his face, already knowing she enjoyed it. 

“Don’t do that again,” she stressed frustratedly and rushed out of the small home without looking back. She made it through the main house and grabbed her bag from the living room when the front door opened and Reine entered. “Oh…” Ann inadvertently let out as her feet stopped in front of her. The brunette set the grocery bag she was holding on the floor and placed her sunglasses on top of her head. Ann could vaguely guess Reine might be 6 months along. “Nice…house,” was what awkwardly came out of Ann as she felt her face heat up and placed her bag on her shoulder while moving through the door. 

“Uh huh…” Reine responded unimpressed with a cocked eyebrow as Ann ran to her car across the street, not caring how she looked.


	3. Lady's Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you're aware of the history of Peter and Ann's IRL friendship, you'll instantly recognize that this chapter is 95% fiction, lol. They stopped hanging out in 1968, Peter had no idea she left journalism until they reconnected in 2013, Ann didn't plan on switching careers right away, etc. I'm pretty sure I made up Reine modeling too, lol. But I thought this chapter would be a bittersweet ending to my sidefic. Also, if you need a pick-me-up after reading this, I recommend checking out Ann's posts and articles on Peter, because her stories are really cute.

Ch. 3: Lady’s Baby

Venice, January 1972

Ann thought she generally knew the whole LA County region pretty well now over half a decade into being a local. But today she might be legitimately lost for the first time in years. Possibly because she couldn’t read her old friend, Cammie’s, writing on the directions she wrote for her. And probably because she didn’t usually venture to this side of the county often. Ann was supposed to be in Marina del Rey, meeting up with a couple of girls she grew up with in her childhood neighborhood. But instead she found herself somehow near Venice. Stopping her car in front of a street of modest looking condominiums, she decided to see if she could get an idea of where she was by looking around. She attempted one last read through the piece of paper before stepping out of the vehicle. She knew she was about a mile away from the beach, and on the other side of the street was a park. Turning around she saw some kids playing outside their homes, a woman watering a small patch of grass next to her place, a hippie leisurely tossing a baseball against his garage door…wait…that looks like…

“…Peter?”

She didn’t realize she said the name out loud until he turned and suddenly looked pleasantly surprised to see her. “Ann! Wow, I never would’ve pegged you for frequenting this part of town,” he exclaimed in amusement.

She stood still for a moment. “Uh, yeah…I usually don’t…” She trailed off unsurely.

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said motioning to her outfit of a nice, black silk blouse, new jeans and black boots. 

“Since when do you live in Venice?” She blurted out.

He thought for a moment. “Since…four months ago.” He smiled again while she just stood ambivalently. “So…what brings you to the last flower power haven of LA? You almost look lost,” he asked curiously.

“That’s because…I sort of am,” she awkwardly confirmed.

“Ah…” Another pause between the two. “…Want to use my phone?”

“Sure. Thanks,” she answered. “…And maybe a map…”

Inside the small, one story home, Ann borrowed the phone in the kitchen. She called Cammie’s house answering machine to explain what happened figuring she was so late they’d left already. Afterwards Peter asked where she was heading to, and Ann was surprised and relieved that he recognized the park she was supposed to be meeting. He wrote a new set of directions on the back of the old ones for her for the next possible visit. In between all of this, Ann would try to get some peeks at his new place. It looked like a basic flat set-up, one that she probably would have resided in had she actually chosen to go college and have a normal life. She briefly noticed a baby piano lazily sat outside a bedroom door and an acoustic guitar was on the couch. She tried not to think too much into how each new place he moved into kept getting smaller. As he scribbled, Ann took note of how his long hair and beard were still present like 18 months ago and he wore a light blue T-shirt and faded jeans. Ann then tried to think back to the last time she might have seen him without facial hair. The closest moment she could recount was the taping of the Monkees’ last TV special, **33 1/3 Revolutions per Monkee** , in 1968.

“I’d give you a tour, but you can essentially see most of the house already from this angle,” he joked.

Ann broke out of her thoughts and looked back to the house. With a second viewing, she could see subtle signs of a woman and a baby living there as well. 

“They do say the recording industry is a rip off,” he continued.

Ann turned back to him and shrugged, “The others seem to make it work.”

“Yeah, well…some of us aren’t quick enough to make sure we wrote the B-sides to the hits.”

Ann recognized the reference to Mike. “There’s always the TV residuals.”

He laughed. “Which are hardly a thing now since we haven’t had regular re-runs in over a year.”

She tried to change the subject. “I’m guessing Venice has a lot of outdoor venues…”

“A few.”

“Does the band like meeting up at the new location?”

“Oh, I broke up the band last summer. I’m flying solo now,” he casually revealed.

Ann stood blankly for a long second. “Oh…how’s that going?”

“Fine! You know, I always loved passing the hat back in the Village and knew I could fall back on that,” he claimed with another smile.

Ann eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh, so…literal street musicianship again?”

He nodded while moving to the couch. 

“Does that actually pay well in the end? At least compared to New York…”

He shrugged while picking up the acoustic. “Enough for the week.”

“How does Reine feel about that…” Ann asked, trying not to feel weird saying her name.

“She’s okay with it. She went back to catalogue modeling part time six months after Hallie was born, so we’re alright.”

Ann nodded as she discovered his daughter’s name for the first time. Then felt a little perturbed that Reine felt obligated to go back to work so soon. “That feels a little unfair,” she let out a little shorter than she meant.

He looked up and laughed. “You should see the expression on your face right now. I didn’t make her go back to work, she suggested it.”

“Okay, well…I don’t remember ever hearing of Phyllis having to go to work,” she tried flippantly.

“She might have to soon,” Peter plainly suggested. Ann then remembered hearing that Phyllis and the kids had moved out of Mike’s house. 

She sighed, frustrated that he wasn’t picking up on her hints. “Mike’s made some…odd choices, but I doubt he would give his own family the cold shoulder.”

“Like he did with Nurit and Jason?” He reminded her with barely any emotion.

That left her at a verbal loss for a silent moment. “Whatever. I didn’t come in here to talk about Mike, of all people.”

“No, just to judge me,” he quipped with a smirk. “What a turn of events hearing you willingly defend Mike. Oh, but you two are friends now, right?” He added with a tone she couldn’t quite place.

She crossed her arms casually. “I don’t know about that…not resenting each other anymore doesn’t necessarily make us friends. I haven’t seen him since he left the band,” she claimed.

Peter then began loosely strumming on the instrument. “So, miss magazine lady about town, what’s your latest story? You land a guy finally?”

Ann straightened up uncomfortably. “I was seeing a guy for a few months. We got serious…but then he left—”

“Oh no. Not again,” Peter sounded disappointed. Ann rolled her eyes while nodding. “At least you got the stellar career to always fall back on,” he added.

“Yeah…I’m actually…I’m most likely going to be moving by the end of the year…” Ann slowly revealed. She hadn’t told anyone besides her mother and Donna about her new plans.

Peter’s brow cocked. “Oh really? New York or London?”

“More like…NorCal…or Colorado…or Arizona…”

He looked confused. “I never considered you the outdoorsy type.”

“Because I’m not.” She let out an agitated breath. “I just, I don’t know. I’m starting to feel ridiculous chasing around teenagers for my job when I started the gig as a teenager chasing 20-somethings.” 

He laughed. “You’d think that would make the celebrities less tempting and more job oriented. You could apply for Creem or Rolling Stone if that’s the case.”

“It’s not just Tiger Beat. I’m getting burnt out on showbusiness in general. It’s like everyone I’ve met in music the past five years is now bitter or addicted or dead. It’s depressing,” she stated bleakly.

“Well, not all of us,” he said with a small nudge.

“Peter…” She began carefully, “…You’re probably the biggest disappointment of all, if I’m being honest.” 

He snorted. “Why? Because I never cared about the indulgent big houses you’re supposed to get with fame like the others?”

“Being responsible doesn’t mean indulgent. Is it that you don’t care or you don’t know how to manage your success?”

“Hey, this is beginning to sound like an investigation,” he played the theme to “Perry Mason” on his guitar. “I thought you were off the clock.”

She ignored his joking. “I don’t understand how you had so many great friends like Steve or Dave and didn’t make use of them for your music. Neil leaves bands all the time and he’s never hurting for work,” she pushed.

“Neil’s a basket case,” was all he said.

Ann was back to being frustrated. “I’ve given up trying to figure out why you can’t make it work in the studio. I just don’t get it. But…I really thought you’d at least grow out of jamming and getting stoned once your daughter was born. Parenting might be the one area you could one-up Mike…” She didn’t want to bring up the singer-songwriter again, let alone throw him under the bus for his questionable decisions, but it was the only comparison she could think of in desperation. Plus it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it.

Peter widened his eyes slightly. “Do I look high right now?” He asked with a goofy voice. “You’re overreacting again, Annie.”

“Come on.” She didn’t like that her heart skipped when he used her nickname. “You’re telling me of all the many friends you have, I’m the first to confront you about this?” Then again, she always assumed most of the people running in and out of his old Canyon house were primarily hangers-on making use of his celebrity status. The fellow musicians disappearing was surprising though.

“Yes,” he claimed.

“Really? Not even Reine?” She kept pushing.

Peter didn’t respond this time and just strummed.

“Well…I’m glad I’m the one single, normal person in your life to bring you back to reality then,” she commented with a bit of a sardonic tone.

“Of course you are,” he agreed smiling while grabbing her hand. “You were always the brightest one in our bunch.” 

Their hands touching made her thoughts pause for a second. After another silent moment, she slowly let go. 

“Small town journalism should feel quaint compared to Hollywood,” he considered.

“Oh…probably. Since we’re being honest here…I’ve been thinking of switching careers,” Ann revealed. She wasn’t really intending on announcing her big news like this.

Peter’s eyes perked in interest. “Such as?”

“Well…I’ve been looking into medical school…maybe dentistry.”

She saw an underwhelming look on his face.

“Aw, man. That’s so ordinary…don’t waste your talent,” he argued.

 _‘Like you?’_ Was what she was so close to saying, but managed to hold her tongue. “I don’t know if I wasted it. I accomplished more in the past five years than most people do by the time they’re 50. And I’m turning 25 soon. Nine years if you count my freelance work when I was a teen in Anaheim…maybe I’ll be able to start a family before I’m 30.”

“Have both the family and the career! Gloria and Angela approved,” he encouraged cheerfully.

She couldn’t help but the smile at his enthusiasm.

“Why medical?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Pays well, and there’s always work available. Not exactly a boring environment either…lots of things, I guess.”

He chuckled mildly. “You’re going to get a different type of crazy teenage girl running around you now.”

Ann then was struck with a realization. “Yeah…that’s another thing…there aren’t exactly groupies hanging around every corner of the Rockies.”

Peter gave another amused smile. “Is that seriously part of the appeal of moving?”

“Uh, yeah…I’d say that’s probably the number one reason I can’t seem to make a guy stick in LA…” She concluded dully.

He re-tuned his guitar. “Eh, those kinds of things eventually fade.”

If he was suggesting that he was committed now, she didn’t exactly believe him. She just gave him a pointed look like he should know what she was referring to. “Well, anyways…sorry this little reunion ended up being so investigative…old habits die hard, apparently. Thanks for the directions and phone.”

“Thanks for that reality check,” he continued sarcastically, though his smile was warm.

“Yeah. I might have been out of line there…”

He set the guitar back down on the couch and stood up. “Come here,” he said simply as he pulled her into a big hug. Rather than allow it to possibly get awkward, Ann slowly embraced him back and let it linger. Mostly because she wasn’t sure the next time she would see him again. She closed her eyes and wondered how no matter what, he always could successfully kill the tension between them. Then she noticed how his scent smelled a little like liquor. She squeezed him a bit tighter as she hoped he wouldn’t join that list of fallen musicians she mentioned earlier. She surprised herself by not being the one to end the hug first.

“Don’t completely disappear on us. I want to say goodbye to you properly before you fly out,” he said with a friendly smile and his hands still on her arms.

She smiled back slightly. “You’ve got a while before we reach that point.” 

He kept his smile and rubbed her upper arm before letting go. She grabbed her purse and directions and gave a lithe wave before exiting. As Ann closed the front door behind her, she saw a blue Datsun slide onto the driveway. She could faintly hear Carly Simon’s ‘Anticipation’ playing right before the car engine turned off. She recognized the woman who got out of the driver’s seat as Reine. The brown-haired woman’s rainbow-colored wardrobe from four years ago now replaced with darker shades, but her hair and sunglasses looked the same from what Ann remembered. Reine placed a big, black town bag over her shoulder before reaching into the baby car seat in the back to grab and set a toddler on her hip. She closed the car door when she noticed Ann standing on the front entrance. “Not exactly a fairytale castle, huh?” Reine dryly commented motioning to the condo.

The statement made Ann realize she had stopped walking and was caught looking at them. “Oh no, it’s nice. I actually prefer it to the Studio City place, which I never thought had enough color…” She trailed off.

Reine nodded with a sardonic grin. “Is this your thing? Crashing houses every couple of years?”

“Oh…no. If you can believe it, I got legitimately lost,” Ann replied.

“Ah…” Reine casually placed her other hand on her hip. There was a pause before Ann tried to be cordial.

“Well, I’m glad he’s doing well—you’re doing well, I mean all of you…are well,” she rambled, annoyed at how awkward it came out. 

“We get by,” Reine rearranged Hallie into both of her arms. “Not everyone can get lucky enough to have all the perks of Monkeemania.”

Ann sensed that as a direct reference to her more than Peter. She eventually responded after a tedious silence when she glanced at the 14-month-old baby in the Reine’s arms. “She’s really cute.”

The former drummer looked at the baby currently sucking on two fingers. “Yeah. She’ll probably look like Peter when she’s older. She already has his eye color.”

Ann took that as a cue to finally head into her car. “That’s great.” She grabbed her car key from her pants pocket and lowered her sunglasses back down to her eyes. “Have a nice day—or night,” she said opening her car door and realizing it was late afternoon. She didn’t bother to look up and see if Reine’s wave was genuine or sarcastic as she sat into the driver’s seat. While putting on her seatbelt and her purse on the passenger seat, Ann took a quick look at the directions Peter wrote her and noticed he drew a tiny flower in the right bottom corner.


End file.
